The Hunter
by Edward-Jacob
Summary: Edward goes on a three week hunting trip, expecting to find some peace and quiet from everyday life. But he finds something completely different during his adventure.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Thanks for reading my story. You can call me EJ. I do like twilight but I haven't read the books. I thought I would give writing a shot and see what happens. A big thank you to my wife, JandMsMommy for being a wonderful beta and not changing my story. This is a story about what I know best--hunting and being a cowboy.

This story is all from Edward POV, and he is a human in this fic.

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight.

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I woke up at three a.m. to a dark morning, the clouds hanging low to the ground. The drizzling rain had not stopped in almost two days. I sighed, knowing it would be hard to maneuver my junky 1963 Chevy pickup through the muddy roads. I bought it from a junk yard in Abilene, TX, and very quickly I realized that mechanics was not a talent I possessed in life. The floor was rusted through. It was missing an inner bed, and it spent most of the time in my driveway, broke down. The only decent thing about the pickup was the sound system that I installed myself. Of course, it was only decent when it was working. Nevertheless, the truck got me where I wanted to go.

This morning was going to be the beginning of a three week hunting trip alone in Colorado. So needless to say, I was pretty worried about getting there safely without a 'crappy truck induced financial fiasco'. The day before the trip was spent researching and packing all the necessary supplies that I would need. I was very lucky to find a decently priced hiking pack at the last minute that would accommodate much of my clothes and my sleeping bag along with a small pillow. I grabbed my favorite Texas Rangers baseball hat, my Marlin 30/30 rifle, and the rest of my belongings and supplies then loaded them all into my truck.

My goal was to leave the ranch and be on the highway by four a.m. I grabbed the last of my gear, threw it in the truck, and began making my way down the winding dirt roads. I lived on one of the three ranches that my parents, Carlisle and Esme Cullen, owned. They gave me the job of managing this particular one. I took care of the wildlife, the horses, and the five hundred head of cattle. The house sat on a hill about ten miles from the highway, so I made sure to leave earlier than usual. Poorly paved dirt roads and rain did not mix well and made driving a slow, tedious ordeal. After avoiding any major catastrophe, I made it to the highway and turned right on Hwy 351 to Abilene. I settled back in my seat, preparing for the long drive ahead to White River National Forest. Most people would say that a drive like that would be very arduous but not me. I was looking forward to the relaxing, extended hunting trip. This was my chance to break away from life and the everyday responsibilities that a cowboy has to endure.

I drove a good eighteen hours with the occasional stop to grab a bite to eat, use the restroom, and fill up with gas. But for the most part, I just kept driving, enjoying the freedom, even in the small confines of my pickup. This was an adventure for me, a chance to see new surroundings and get into the open wild. I wanted to make the most of my time away. And so far, my truck was still running. I decided to stop in Georgetown, Colorado for the night at a flimsy motel. It was cheap, and that was priority. The ceiling was stained with mold from a leaky roof, and although the bed seemed clean, I decided it would be a better idea to sleep on top of the comforter in my sleeping bag. I pulled on an old high school t-shirt and shorts then settled in for the night. The bed was surprisingly comfortable, and as soon as I laid down, I fell fast asleep.

The next morning, I had my customary cup of coffee and smoked one of my favorite Backwoods Cigars while I watched the sun rise over the mountains. Even though I was in a crowded town, it was still a relaxing and amazing view. I finished my cigar and coffee then loaded all my stuff into the truck. I continued with the last leg of the trip to White River National Forest. The way the road roughly wound up and around the mountains did not deter my excitement to reach the forest.

I stopped outside of a town by the name of Wolcott to pick up the massive, sorrel horse named Chester and the pack mule I had rented that would take me and my gear through the mountainous terrain. Most importantly, I needed to be sure that my rifle would be within easy reach. My biggest concern while being here would be the many Black Bears that roamed throughout the area.

Once I reached the campsite, my first priority was to put up my tent so I could set out at dusk to hunt for some deer meat. I picked a spot in a valley at the base of the mountain that sat alongside a flowing river which fed from the surrounding mountains. I hung my food provisions up high from a tree, in case any hungry bears found their way to my camp. I placed my rifle in the holster that hung by my thigh below the saddle and hobbled the pack mule so she would not run off.

Chester was uncharacteristically alert this evening which seemed odd for a horse that was no stranger to being in the mountains. Nevertheless, we set out of the valley floor, traveling three miles away from camp. The horse worked its way through the mountains and trees effortlessly as we climbed to a ledge above the valley floor in order to get a better view of the terrain and any deer. I tied the horse to a tree ten yards away and moved into position on a rock ledge that provided a good view even though it was covered by massive trees.

After an hour went by with no luck, I decided it would be better to navigate through the terrain, searching for more deer. I enjoyed stalking game much more than sitting in a fixed location, just waiting. I worked my way through the trees and bushes then came upon a small clearing fifty yards from my original position. Grazing in the middle of the clearing another sixty yards ahead was a Mule deer. It wasn't anything grand, but it was food and that was what I needed.

I crept a little closer and found a low lying branch to rest my rifle upon. This was a kill that I was not going to risk missing. I stood there completely hidden from the animal's view and got the cross hairs of my scope centered right behind the left shoulder. I was comfortable with the shot and began to grip the trigger. The thunderous noise of the shot rang out, and, in an instant, the deer fell limply to the ground.

It was then that I saw something out of the corner of my eye, running away from the same deer. I couldn't be sure as the form disappeared at lightening speed, but I caught a glimpse of what appeared to be a red, flowing dress.

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	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Hello! Thanks to my wonderful beta and wife JandMsMommy. Without her, my story would suck. lol j/k Thanks to those that have reviewed and alerted. I appreciate it! Enjoy chapter 2!

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight.

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Most people can hunt for days without finding anything worth shooting, so you would think that I would be ecstatic. Instead, I kept thinking about what I saw. The fleeting image of the red dress would not leave my mind.

Surely there wasn't someone else in the woods with me. The thought alone was ridiculous. I returned to my campsite and wrapped up my deer remains before hanging them from a tree in a burlap sack. The temperature had dropped significantly during the time that it took me to get back to camp, so I built a small fire.

While the venison was cooking, I once again found myself thinking about what I had seen in the woods. Could it actually have been a woman? I reasoned that it moved incredibly too fast to be human. I had never seen a human move as fast as this thing had. But then I saw the red. It had to be a dress, therefore, it had to be a person. Confusion set in every time I tried to come to any kind of conclusion.

Many questions kept swirling around in my mind, so I decided that at first daylight, I would return to clearing in the woods and begin to track the being in the direction that it fled.

By daybreak, the fire only emanated small embers, but it was still enough to start a nice flame for a pot of coffee and some venison. The harsh wind was stiff, cold, and wet, but there was a force of curiosity that drove me back to the clearing in the woods. It was no more than fifty feet in diameter, which made looking for any signs not too difficult. I saw obvious signs of animal tracks: deer, mountain lions, raccoons all scattered throughout the clearing.

Chester's ears suddenly began to perk upright, and his demeanor became more edgy as if he could sense something lurking about in the dense forest. Then the atmosphere became alive with the sounds of branches breaking and twigs snapping. It was haunting. Nothing could be seen, even as I darted my eyes around in confusion. The rhythmic noises of something living quickly managed to spark paranoia, and I left that particular area in a hurry.

I returned to my camp after wandering in the woods throughout the day, riding further and further, tracking in the direction that the form had fled. The next morning, I would strike out again, leaving earlier to travel farther than I had the previous day. I got a fire going, cooked some more meat and lay there on the ground by the fire, smoking a cigar and trying to make sense of what I was hearing in the woods. Not only did the noises make me uneasy, but I couldn't shake the feeling that I was being watched as well. As I sat by the warm flame, exhaustion and sleepiness gradually overtook me. I put my venison down on a rock beside the fire pit, failing to recognize the invitation I was offering to other animals by leaving it there.

When morning broke, I stumbled out of my tent, feeling much more energized than the day before. Looking around, it was clear that a few animals had visited me during the night by the footprints that were left in the soft soil. But there was one footprint that alerted me. It only took a moment's glance to realize that this footprint did not belong to any animal. It was human. A sense of caution surged through my body. I looked around the campsite anxiously, and my eyes fell on a trail of more prints.

Grabbing my rifle, I quickly saddled up Chester and began to ride, following the path of footprints. Luckily, they were somewhat easy to spot due to how soft the ground was. I followed the prints beyond the clearing where I had killed the deer, traveling deeper and deeper into the forest. Eventually, they led to an old overgrown pathway, covered by bushes, huge trees, and knee high grass. Night was coming soon, so I decided it would be best to pitch my tent underneath a cluster of oak trees that would offer some protection in case I encountered any varmint or a sudden storm.

I built a fire and cooked some venison, all the while my thoughts were focused on the red dress. I was mesmerized by it and finding the human prints had ultimately convinced me that there was a woman in the mountains with me. That night, I dreamt of her. Beginning at her feet, my gaze slowly moved up to the hemline of her dress. The skirt had delicate pleats, and red lace covered the torso. Her shoulders were bare. Her skin had no tan to it but was pure white, and it sparkled with angelic beauty, as if each cell was actually a diamond. Her frame was thin and small but very attractive.

A sudden rustle in the brush coupled with a crash of falling timber awoke me from my dream. My eyes snapped open, and I heard the distinct sound of footsteps as they sped away. Immediately, I grabbed my gun, pulled on my boots, and proceeded out of my tent to investigate the startling sounds. It was incredibly uncommon to hear such loud noises out in the middle of nowhere. I grabbed my flash light as it was still dark outside.

I first checked to make sure that Chester had not gotten away. Sure enough, he was still there, tied to the tree. I surveyed the ground for anything unusual, hoping that nothing would be out of the ordinary so that I could dismiss the strange happenings to my dreams. When I turned back to my tent and looked down, there it was. Another bare footprint.

"Hello?" I called out.

No answer.

The tracks continued down the same path that I had been following before night fell. Gun in hand, I grabbed my cap and hurriedly ran over to Chester. I did not want this thing or woman to get away. I quickly began heading down the trail of prints. Along the way, the path became more worn, almost like it had been used frequently. There was a fallen tree that blocked it at one point. As I went around the tree, my flashlight caught something that was twisted in one of its limbs. It was something red. I dismounted Chester and plucked the ripped material from the tree. I looked at it in amazement, even though my subconscious already knew what it was. It was a piece of the red dress. Various emotions consumed me. I was excited, anxious, and fearful all at the same time. The mysteriousness and rush of the situation intrigued all my senses.

I hopped on Chester, tucked the piece of red cloth in my saddle bag and proceeded quickly down the trail. The full moon shone through the wilderness, lighting my way. The dense brush gave way to a lake nestled beneath the mountains. I stopped, and a flicker of light from across the lake caught my attention. At first, I thought that it must have just been the moonlight shining on a small wave, but I still wasn't satisfied. After all that had happened, I couldn't resist traveling around the lake to continue my investigation. I decided to leave Chester tied to a tree further back from the lake and continued on foot.

I slowly crept around the outside of the lake with extreme caution, doing my best to remain unnoticed. The lake was massive, and after what seemed like a lifetime, I began to get closer to shining object. Through the fog, the form of a cabin overlooking the lake began to take shape. It was small, quaint, and clearly very old. A lone candle was lit in the window.

Lightning and the sound of thunder loomed in the distance behind the mountains. The promise of a rainstorm yet to come. I crouched low in the grass, focusing on the cabin and the surrounding area for any signs of life. I saw the sudden flicker of a second candle as an unseen person lit it in another window. It was as if the person inside was expecting someone. Slowly and methodically, I crept closer with my rifle ready to defend myself if need be. The door to the cabin opened, and I stopped. Then someone stepped out of the darkness, turned, and stared at me with piercing but mesmerizing eyes. It was a woman. A woman in a red dress.

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